"Little Boy Lost" - Part Two

We were back at the Red Dog, standing in the hallway outside the back office.

"What was I supposed to do?" I said. "Leave him there? He's just a kid."

"We're still a business, Kat, remember? We can't take on every charity case that comes along."

"This isn't a charity case."

"Bullshit. This has charity case written all over it. Have you looked at our funds recently? We haven't been paid for a job since the consult with Absinthe. And that was barely anything."

"That was five thousand creds," I said.

"So we're back to eating kibble."

"Pessimist," I said. "We're fine. We've got our reserves."

The door to the back office opened and Revell came out. The burly, bearded owner of the Red Dog had a grin on his face. "Boy is eating like champion," he said in his Russian-tinged basso. "Already eaten two jumbo burgers from Grill Palace."

"Maybe he'll explode," said Mouse, "and we can forget about it."

"Be nice," I said.

"Is no explode," said Revell. "Is good for growing boy. I get him drinks." He went past us toward the bar.

I nodded toward the back office. "Let's talk to the kid. He's our client now."

"Kat--" Mouse began.

"He hired us," I said.

Mouse threw up her hands. "Fine. But I'm telling you. This'll end badly. Maybe with an explosion."

I shook my head and reached for the office door.

Then stopped.

Memories of Lazlar and the disk flashed through my mind.

"Kat?" said Mouse.

I pulled out my cellphone. "Better safe than dead," I said and dialed Fast Eddie.

"Wotcher, luv," said a cheery Cockney-laced tenor.

"Infodump, please."

"Who?"

"Joey and Alan Taylor. Virginia. Fed States."

"Ten minutes."

"Call me back."

"Right."

I hung up, opened the office door, and went in.

* * *

Joey looked up from the desk with a mouthful of fries and gave me and Mouse a small smile.

Mouse perched on the corner of the desk, arms folded across her chest.

I grabbed a folding chair leaning against the wall, flicked it open, and sat down across from him.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places featured in this work are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, institutions, or locales is purely coincidental.